


The Court of Ruby and Obsidian

by omegaling



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Brief Kylo/OC, Courtier and courtesans AU, F/M, Light BDSM, Lots of Moral Ambiguity, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sinnamon rolls not cinnamon rolls, You Need A Teacher, darker themes, some dub con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-06 10:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11034648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omegaling/pseuds/omegaling
Summary: The current head of the Snoke dynasty is ready to name a successor, and Kylo Ren, one of his most loyal and desired courtiers, is among his final selection.  He has only one more task to complete: find a girl, train her in the arts of the Court, and present her as the future wife of Unkar Plutt to ensure his fealty to Archduke Snoke.Rey should not have been that girl.  She was too wild, too unrefined when she was brought from the working house to be an indentured servant in Snoke’s ancestral keep, but if there’s one thing Kylo cannot resist it’s a challenge.  Rey would become his greatest protege, a perfect addition to the Court, and her success will guarantee that Kylo will be named the next Archduke.But as training Rey progresses, the situation quickly spirals out of control.  One by one, Kylo starts to break his own rules.Never speak unless you have something to say.Never let your guard down.And never, ever, fall in love.





	1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

It was called the Ruby Court, but not for the obvious reason.

When one first set foot within the Court, they were immediately confronted by its immense size, its furthest ends lost to shadows and its vaulted ceilings supported by a forest of pillars.  Despite the enormity of the space, the whole chamber was imbued with a sense of oppression, as though one was standing on the hand of a giant that was curling into a fist.  Many first-time guests said that it was the Court’s decor that invoked such feelings of dread and claustrophobia; the pillars that marched down the length of the great chamber were carved from massive blocks of crimson marble shot through with veins of black and gold, and the floor, patterned in dizzying, often erratic mosaics of jet-black and red tile, gave visitors the disquieting illusion that they were treading across a field of broken glass that could tear through the sole of even the sturdiest shoe.  The few items of furniture that lined the walls were crafted from wood so dark it appeared nearly black except where the light of a hundred lamps and thousands of candles reflected off the broad, bright red whorls and grain, creating the unsettling illusion that the wood was bleeding.  Nearly everyone who passed through the Court remarked in hushed tones that they felt as though they had been devoured by some great beast as they nervously eyed the great red tapestries hanging from the walls, whose shimmering lengths made the chamber appear as though it was drawing a slow, deep breath.

It was a fitting metaphor to be sure.  For the past half millennia, the Ruby Court served as the seat of power of the Snoke dynasty.  The great chamber that housed it stretched the whole length of the ancient stone stronghold that sat at the foot of an craggy, ice-covered mountain range.  Even at the height of summer the landscape surrounding the stronghold was barren and grey, inhabited by mangy wolves that hunted tough, sinewy jack rabbits that lived amongst the thorny heather and towering black pines.  The narrow switch-back road lead from the main highway to the stronghold’s gate took a day to converse, and that was only if the traveler was smart enough to start at dawn; if not, it meant risking spending the night on the side of the mountain or continuing on in the dark, avoiding obstacles and sheer hundred-foot drops the whole way.  

Upon reaching the end of the road, visitors were greeted by the sight of an enormous iron portcullis.  The gateway was always half-raised, the lethal spikes clearing a man’s head by mere inches as he passed beneath it.  It was little wonder that people felt that they were being swallowed whole as they entered Archduke Snoke’s ancestral home.  And if all that was not harrowing enough, the guests still had the Ruby Court to contend with. Going from the stark bleakness of the landscape to the intense vibrancy of the Court was known to cause guests to feel faint or nauseous when entering, regardless if it was their first calling or their twentieth.  It was all a raw display of all that the Snoke legacy coveted the most since rising to become to kingdom of Coruscant’s largest moneylenders and one of its most influential families; power, wealth, and above all, intimidation.

But such power came at a price, and that price was paid by the people who tried to stand in the way of the Snoke’s ascension within the king’s court, or who failed to uphold their end of an iron-bound contract.  If the Ruby Court ever held another name, it had been long since washed away by the blood of those who fell from favor with the current head of the dynasty.  That in turn gave rise to a plethora of macabre legends known throughout the kingdom and beyond: that the foundations of the stronghold were made from the bones of the indentured servants who built it; that blood would seep up from in between the Court’s original wood floorboards and ultimately forced a past Snoke to replace it with something easier to clean; that the worse offenders of a Snoke’s trust and generosity were sealed within the Court’s walls with their tongues cut out, and a miniscule peephole drilled through the brick and morter so they could look out on the world they would never be part of again.  A countless number of tales branched off from those, telling of assassinations, executions, and public displays of torture.  If the rumors that grew out from the Ruby Court could be given a physical form, it would be a great forest of black briar tree that ensnared everyone who crossed its border, their combined fear and respect for the men that sowed the seeds nourishing it, giving it strength.

Every so often, someone would rise from the faceless and sniveling masses to ascend the ranks of the Ruby Court.  The climb was perilous, exhaustive and oftentimes exceedingly painful, and it was not uncommon for most people to lose their grip and fall long before they came close to the top.  But those who endured the trials were rewarded by a life of unprecedented luxury as one of Snoke’s esteemed courtiers: Extravagant living quarters and priceless clothing; decadent feasts and access to the finest new entertainment in the kingdom; a never-ending flow of wine, brandy, and spice; and, of course, the innumerous bedroom talents of the Ruby Court, whose infamy was second only to its tales of violence.  The only thing required of them in return was their complete loyalty to the current Snoke.  Every command was to be obeyed, every request fulfilled without question.  And every piece of information, every whispered rumor, was relayed to Snoke, and Snoke alone.

The right information could be worth its weight in gold.  Seduction and an edge of ruthlessness - two traits Snoke’s courtiers were famously known for - were invaluable tools within the Court, but the most skilled of the courtiers were those who could glean meaningful intel from gossip and make people surrender their secrets without their query realizing they were doing so.  And none could do it as well as Kylo Ren.

It took Kylo Ren six years to climb up the ranks of the Ruby Court, sacrificing blood and dignity as he fought tooth and nail to vie for Snoke’s attention among the unworthy.  But the struggle had been worth it, and since his debut in the Court the information Kylo was able to obtain from various sources lead to the disgrace and downfall of two noble houses and the absorption of a highly profitable but poorly managed silk mill into Snoke’s financial empire.  People learned to fear Kylo almost as much as his benefactor, warning one another of the dangers of earning the attention of the Court’s silver-tongued devil.  Yet despite that they still fell willingly into bed with him, laying bare all he wanted to see, both figuratively and literally.

Kylo Ren swirled the deep red brandy around the belled curve of the tumbler in her hand.  Raising the glass to his lips, he gazed out at the crowd of aristocrats and merchants milling about the Court over its rim.  It was the eve of the summer season.  The snow and ice had at least released its hold on the mountain roads, and Snoke was hosting his first official Court session of the year.  Nearly everyone in attendance was here to seek some sort of financial favor of Snoke: petitions put forward for trivial manners such as loans, a sponsorship for a new endeavor, or a profitable marriage arrangements for their children.

Then there was the business dealings of a far more sensitive nature; the ones that required a request of a special audience with Snoke and were made behind closed doors.  In the deep underbelly of society, it was known that if someone needed something taken care of, Snoke was the man to come to.  Conditions were laid out, prices were negotiated, and no one in the kingdom, including the Archduke’s own sworn enemies, would be none the wiser.  Snoke gave his client his word that no one outside the chamber would even know of what transpired there.  And he was sincere; the only people who knew of the contracts were the Archduke, the one petitioning for the favor...and, of course, the courtier who listened to the whole transaction as it happened.

To a courtier of the Ruby Court, the start of the summer season marked an event of their own.  It was a fresh opportunity to rise in Snoke’s favor - or lose it and suffer the consequences.  It was all hinged on how well each individual courtier handled the contract assigned to them.  The more Snoke trusted a courtier, the more difficult the task to complete.  And every year, Kylo completed his with flawless efficiency.

This year, though, had thus far proven to be different.  The Court session was almost concluded, and Snoke had yet to summon him to his private audience chamber.  All he got instead was an order delivered to him by a servant that Kylo was to await the Archduke in the main hall.

So wait he did.  And after nearly two hours of doing nothing but waiting, Kylo’s patience was thoroughly frayed.  It was due only to years of rigid self-discipline that kept his foul mood from boiling over, concealing all he was thinking and feeling under layers upon layers of control until not even an iota showed.  One of the first lessons that was learned upon coming to the Court was that everything one did was under constant scrutiny: every action observed, every word and expression weighed and measured.  And he, one of the Archduke’s elites, would be watched more closely than ever for any slip of character or cracks in his composure.  If the rumors fluttering between the red columns held any truth to them, this year he had to be more careful than ever.  His very future depended on it. 

“Kylo Ren.”

Kylo’s spine reflexively stiffened at the sound of his master’s voice.  He swore that no matter how long he was at the Court, he would never get used to the way Archduke Snoke materialized from the shadows the way he did.  At least he had long since trained himself to not react, which was more than he could say about most other people who suddenly found themselves in the Snoke’s presence.

The old man was a head shorter than Kylo, his thin frame swathed in robes of heavy grey velvet so dark they were nearly black, accented by swatches of red silk.  Despite his appearance one was quick the learn that Snoke was anything but frail.  No one knew exactly how old the Archduke was - there were rumors of course, but the only thing anyone agreed on was that he was older than anyone in living memory - but his back was still ramrod straight, his eyes as clear and cold as a frozen lake.  Like all the Snokes that came before him, he had an air of authority that commanded the attention and respect of everyone in the room, regardless if it was five or five hundred.  The only thing that outnumbered the dark tales of how the Court was the speculations of how Snoke got his scar.  The mark bisected his face from the top left-hand side of his skull down to the right corner of his mouth, and was so deep that it appeared that whatever inflicted the blow did so with the intention of cleaving his head in half.  The result left his features so twisted and distorted that most people couldn’t look at him for more than a few minutes at a time.  The most infamous story about Snoke was that when death failed to strike him down the first time it never returned to finish the job, and sometimes even Kylo found himself believing it.

“What news, my apprentice?” Snoke asked him.  The voice that emerged from his emaciated throat was unexpectedly deep, like thunder heard from the bottom of a mountain ravine.

“Only what’s to be expected after a long winter.  Births.  Deaths.  Who made the most notable impression at the solstice galas.  The occasional attempted murder.  Nothing of relevance to us.”

“Do you ever miss it, Ren?  A simpler life with simpler problems among simpler folk?” Snoke began to walk down the length of the hall, and Kylo immediately fell into step beside him.  The nobles and merchants meandering among the columns studiously ignored the Archduke and his courtier as they passed, keeping their attention wholly on each other and their conversations.  Snoke had no tolerance for eavesdropping, no matter how unintentional, and anyone caught turning an ear in his direction was liable to lose it.

“The only regret that I have is that I did not leave sooner,” Kylo answered without hesitation.  “I will always be grateful to you and the Court for giving me the liberty to become what I knew I should be, and not force me into a mould of imposed expectations.”

Snoke’s mangled lips curled into the closest thing he could manage to a smile.  “Clever boy.  In all your years of service not once have you led me to question your loyalty.  Now I have one last task for you to complete for me.”

Kylo felt his curiosity pique, but he did not let it reflect on his face.  He had been with the Court long enough to know that damn near everything was a test, and he did not doubt for a moment that Snoke was attempting to bait him to stray off-topic.  “You flatter me, my Lord.  May I inquire as to the nature of the task?”

“What do you know of Unkar Plutt?”

“Not much more than what I’ve heard others speak of.  Largely that he’s not worth the dirt he stood on before iron ore was discovered on the spit on land he owns.  That he looks like a diseased toad and smells like a pig carcass, and those are some of the more eloquent descriptions.”

Snoke chuckled, a sound that made Kylo’s skin crawl under his robes.  “Crass, but not untrue.  Normally I would not be concerned with those of Plutt’s ilk but he has forced my hand.  The iron vein he is squatting upon has been tested to be the purest quality discovered in the past century, and has therefore garnered the attention of everyone of significant political and economic prowess in Coruscant, hoping to purchase his mines for whatever gain they seek.  But my sources tell me that he has so far rejected all offers.  It is not just money he wants; it’s a title.”

“Bottom feeders,” Ren scoffed.  “They trips over a single piece of good fortune and then believes that the whole world owes them for it.”

“That is most certainly true, but we cannot risk someone gaining control of such a valuable natural resource to be used in any way they please.  In particular, the Marchioness Organa, whose influence over the king has been growing despite my best efforts.”  Snoke’s small but piercing eyes flickered to Kylo’s face the way they always did when the Marchioness was mentioned, but as always, Kylo kept his expression flawlessly stoic.   _ A test; everything is always a test. _  Evidently Snoke was pleased with Kylo’s lack of reaction because he continued on: “I will not give him the title he is seeking.  Instead I will give him something that will guarantee both the mines and his fealty to me: a wife.  A woman with loyalty to the Ruby Court and ultimately to me.”

“A wise solution, my Lord.  Have you made a selection of whom will be bestowed with that honor?”  Already in his mind Kylo was assessing who among his peers would be best to fit that role.  Pretty, plump Zehra maybe, who could manipulate a man into doing just about anything with her mouth alone.  Or pixie-like Shakti, whose innocent charm almost started a war between two distinguished houses.

“No,” Snoke said, almost as if he could read Kylo’s thoughts.  “Plutt may be a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them.  I will not risk him becoming suspicious of my intentions by sending him a seasoned member of the Court.”

“What do you have in mind then, my Lord?”

“Find me a girl, Ren.  Teach her the ways of the Court and all she needs to know to keep her future husband happy and malleable in our hands.  There is a new shipment of servant girls being delivered from the Theed workhouses tomorrow morning.  Hopefully one of them will be about to suit our needs.  I need her ready for presentation to Plutt by the autumn season.  Is that clear?”

“Perfectly, sir,” Kylo said.

“I know you will not disappoint me.  If I am particularly pleased by your work, I can almost guarantee that your reward will be beyond any that has been bestowed upon my courtiers before.”

“Upon my word, I shall not fail.”

Snoke swept away without another word to be immediately swallowed by the deep shadows of the hall.  Kylo did not release the breath he was holding until the last of the Archduke’s robes disappeared from sight.  There was no question of it now; Snoke was preparing to chose a successor, and by his implications Kylo was one of his top choices.  The revelation should have thrilled him, but it was dampened by the upcoming task Snoke saddled him with.  It was certainly an odd one for him to receive.  Surely someone like Phasma, who specialized in training submissives, would be better suited for it.  But if Snoke believed him to be the one best matched for his job, then who was he to question his master?  Besides, that was an issue he could worry about tomorrow.  Tonight there was far more pleasant business that required his attention.

She swept through the gloom of the Ruby Court like a vision, her gold-and-ivory gown resplendent against the scarlet backdrop.  Unlike most of his peers, Kylo had a good relationship with the aristocrat who bought his virginity after his debut.  The Duchess Tila Mott - then newly widowed by her husband’s mysterious death - had been a generous and patient lover, and the memory of her copper thighs wrapped around his pale hips was one he would forever cherish.  Her bright green eyes met his and a brilliant smile bloomed across her face.  Kylo could not help the small smile he reciprocated.

“Kylo Ren,” she greeted him in her husky voice as he approached.  She held out her hand for him to kiss, the soft kid-hide glove tickling his lips.  “How is it possible for you to grow even more handsome since the last time I saw you?”

“Whatever the reason, it applies to you tenfold.”  The Duchess Mott was at least five years Kylo’s senior, possibly more.  The onset of age was beginning to touch the corners of her eyes, but she was none the less radiant for it.  Today topaz chips sparkled in her tightly curled back hair, and her full breasts looked to soft and decadent pushed up by her corset that the temptation to lean down and lavish his tongue over them in full view of everyone was almost too strong to resist.

“I sent you an invitation to my solstice gala, hoping you’d finally attend this year.  Imagine my disappointment when you didn’t show.  Why do you keep spurning me so?” She pouted, sending a bolt of desire straight to his loins.

“My apologies, my Lady.  My attentions were required here by my master.  Otherwise I would have braved that horrific blizzard and certain resulting frostbite to attend.”

The Duchess laughed.  “Well, when you put it that way, we certainly can’t have specific bits turning black and falling off on us, can we?  It’s no matter now.  I brought a gift to you in any case.”  The duchess looked behind her and motioned for a servant Kylo had not noticed before to come forward.  She removed the lid of the long, thin box he was holding, revealing two daggers nestled in a bed of paper.  The curved blades were so brightly polished they seemed to be their own lightsource, and the handles were intricately carved ivory inlaid with gold.

“Are they not lovely?” The duchess asked, ghosting her fingers over one of the blades.  “Naboo, ninth century.  I saw them at an auction and immediately thought of you.  Do you like them?”

“They’re exquisite,” Kylo politely lied.  He had no use for such frivolous items - these blades would shatter like glass if he tried to inflict a blow upon even the weakest armor - but decorum required that he said nothing against a gift received by a client.  “I don’t know how I repay you for such a gift.”

“Oh, I can think of a few ways,” the Duchess Mott replied, arching an eyebrow.  She replaced the lid on the box and reached out to take hold of the lapels of Kylo’s robes, pushing herself up to her toes so her lips were even with his ear.  “I had a dream last night about your tongue and I haven’t been able to think of anything since.  It’s like an itch I can’t scratch.  Will you help me relieve it?”

Kylo allowed the duchess to lead him out of the Court and toward the direction of his bedchamber.  Tomorrow’s problems would be worried about then; for now, he was going to enjoy the night for all it was worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was very much inspired by my upcoming excitement for the new season of _Game of Thrones_ , as well as the copious amounts of literature I've been reading that takes place in Renaissance Florence and the French Courts before the Revolution in the last few months. I apologize that the first part was so plodding, and I intend to go back and make it less info dump-y later, but things will be quick to get underway from here on out. This is going to be a much darker and racier story than _Allez Cuisine!_ but as this is new territory for I'm not sure what that quite entails yet. Thank you so much for reading. I already know how the next chapter starts so hopefully we're in for some quick updates.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of bloodshed in this chapter, and though it's nothing excessive I bumped up the archive warnings to include depictions of violence.

**Chapter Two**

Kylo Ren stood on the stronghold’s foremost battlement, watching the transport wagon make its lumbering journey up the treacherous road.  Dawn had broken several hours ago, but the valley beneath the mountains was shrouded in mist and shadow.  The wind coming off the peaks behind him still bore winter’s teeth, biting at the exposed skin on his face and clawing at the thick fur-lined cloak on his shoulders.  The only indication he gave that he felt the cold at all was by the way he clutched the cup of coffee in his hands, trying to absorb all the warmth he could through his gloves.  The liquid within was black as pitch and unbelievably bitter, but Kylo felt it was well suited for the sour feeling that took up residence in his stomach over the past few hours.

The Duchess Mott left his chambers in the early hours of the morning, as she always did, the little heat her body provided fading within moments of her departure.  Kylo never bothered to ask her why she never stayed through the night.  By the time he rose himself the last embers of the previous night’s fire had long since turned to ash, leaving his rooms so cold that his breath misted before him.  Kylo did not allow servants into his private sanctum until he summoned them himself; too many courtiers in the past lost their favor and their lives because of careless pillow-talk overheard by a servant bringing in breakfast or tending to the fire, and though he was not so foolish to allow something like that to happen, he was not able to take the risk.  As a result his chambers were frigid cold in the mornings, even at the height of summer, but Kylo never minded.  On the contrary, he welcomed the way the chill sharpened his mind and senses, preparing him for the day while his peers still lazed in bed.

This morning the cold made him keenly aware of an unfamiliar feeling lodged beneath his ribs.  Emotions had no place in the Court as they could easily be exploited and manipulated until they consumed a person like a gangrenous wound.  They had been the first of many useless hang-ups from his old life that Kylo cut out when he first arrived at the Court, like a diseased limb that needed to be done away with before the infection could take root and spread.  The void left in its place acted as the first line of defense to keep anyone from getting closer to him than he allowed.  So when something appeared within that void, it was akin to having a very large pebble in his shoe that he couldn’t dislodge.  The resulting sensation left him feeling restless and irritable, but after an hour of contemplation he was still unable to pinpoint its source.

With some difficulty Kylo pushed the thought from his mind and gave the bell pull in his room a furious tug, ordering his morning coffee from the kitchens in the belly of the keep.  Though his night with the duchess had been wholly enjoyable, he now only had a few hours to prepare for the task Snoke saddled him with.  With so much at stake he couldn’t afford any further distractions, especially when it was on something as petty and insignificant as a wayward emotion.

Now, as he watched the transport wagon clear the final turn and make its way to the gatehouse, the feeling returned tenfold, no longer able to be quashed and ignored.  His earlier aggravation returned with it, a combination he knew could cause detrimental harm to his task before it even started.  He already knew what was waiting for him when the transport wagon offloaded its burden: A dozen or so wide-eyed waifs, ranging from children to early adulthood, underfed and scared and utterly ignorant of the opportunity they were blessed with.  It was the Archduke’s generosity that lifted them from the overcrowded and dangerous workhouses of Theed, giving them the rare chance to rise above the sorry station in life they were born into by becoming servants of his household.  If they proved to be competent and useful, then one day they could be taken into the confidence of a courtier to become part of their web of informants and reap the rewards that came with it.  One or two may even attempt to make the climb and achieve the rank of courtier themselves.  Once they realized that, they would scoff at the memories of the time before and wonder how they ever thought they were better off any other way.

Today was to be different.  Today Kylo was supposed to pick one of the new arrivals for exclusive training to serve both his master and to please her husband-to-be, who was one of the most repulsive men Kylo ever heard of.

Was that what he was feeling?  Guilt, for knowing he would be delivering an innocent girl to such a miserable fate just to achieve the ends to a mean?  During his time in the Ruby Court, Kylo had been the instigator of dozens of fell deeds that destroyed the lives, fortunes, and reputations of the Snoke’s enemies.  The difference between those tasks and the one now was that those men and women spent decades, even generations, building up their pretension and blind arrogance until all it took was one final push to send it all toppling down.  Kylo never had to involve an innocent in completing a scheme before, and quite frankly, he hated the Archduke for making him do so now.

Kylo Ren drew a deep lungful of air, the sharp cold clearing his head and crystallizing the blood in his veins.  It was not his place to question his lord or his methods.  This could very well be another test, forving Kylo to step out of his comfort zone to attain his goal by any means necessary.  As the new Snoke, he would have to make decisions that called for more ruthlessness and sacrifice on a daily basis.  If he let something like guilt eat away at him over such a trivial manner now, the title of Archduke as good as belonged to someone else.

_ You must always be master of yourself, even when the rest of the world is reigned by chaos _ , he told himself, one of his many mantras that got him to where he was today.  Dumping his remaining coffee on the stones of the battlement, Kylo turned back to the main stronghold, his cloak sweeping behind him.

* * *

 

Kylo Ren heard the commotion coming from the bailey before he even stepped out of the gatehouse’s main stairway.  The sound of shouting men and clanging armor reverberated deafeningly off the narrow stone walls, stoking Kylo’s temper like a blast furnace.  He stormed into the castle’s outer bailey, determined to rend the head from the body of the fool who instigated a cacophony at such an early hour, when the scene before him caused him to freeze in his tracks.

The transport wagon had been unloaded, but instead of being ushered inside the new arrivals huddled against its rough side like a herd of spooked deer, every pair of eyes locked on the middle of the outer courtyard.  A dozen or so armed guards stood in a circle, weapons drawn and legs spread wide in a battle-ready stance, surrounding a lone figure whom Kylo found his attention wholly fixed on.

Had Kylo first encountered her under an ordinary circumstance, he may have overlooked the young woman currently surrounded by Snoke’s guards entirely.  She was tall for a woman and not a day over twenty if he had to guess, but the gauntness in her limbs suggested that most of her growing happened without the nutrition needed to support it.  Her shapeless, rough-spun dress hid any curves she might possess, but based on what he could make out it wasn’t much to start with.  Her face, with its petite features and wide hazel eyes, was undeniably pretty once one looked past the pinch of hunger in her cheeks, the dirty brown hair clinging to her skin and the snarl twisting her lips.

The last thing Kylo noticed was the halberd in her hands, its blade leveled at the men circling her, and the world lurched back into motion.

One of the castle guards advanced on her, and suddenly the girl was a whirl of wild motion, the halberd slashing in every conceivable direction as she swung it at the men hemming her in.  She fought like a trapped wild cat, desperate and reckless.  In the hands of a trained warrior a blow from her weapon would be lethal, but she was blinded by fear and hopelessly outnumbered.  She never stood a chance.

The battle, if it could be called such, was over as fast as it started.  The girl raised the halberd over her head as if  to cleave the man standing in front of her in half, only to have the shaft grabbed by another guard who lunged at her from behind.  With a violent twist he wrenched the weapon from her hands, sending her spinning into the ice-crusted mud covering the ground.  The guards fell on her like hounds on a fox, holding her down as she fought to get back on her feet.  One of the men straddled her back, a murderous look on his face as he pulled a dagger from his belt and angled it at her throat.

“Stop!”

Kylo Ren’s voice rang through the bailey like a peal of thunder, reverberating off the outer stone walls until it filled the area like a tangible force.  Every person within its range froze, all eyes instantly trained on him.  Even the wildcat of a girl stopped struggling, twisting around as much as she could in her prone position to look at him.  The man on top of her still had the dagger to her throat.

“What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed, crossing the yard with long, sweeping strides.  The guards scrambled to their feet at his approach, hauling the girl up with them by the ragged collar of her dress as they snapped to attention.

“My Lord Ren! A thousand apologies,” the most senior officer said as Kylo came to a stop before them.  Like most everyone in Snoke’s domaine, the man was unable to look Kylo in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time.  It was a nervous tick in others he was so used to he hardly noticed anymore.  The same could not be said of the girl; she no longer fought against the man holding her, but her hazel eyes burned through the mask of foul black mire covering her face, tracing his every move.  “We were offloading the new scullery and laundry wrenches when this one just went barmey on us.” He gave the girl a small but firm shake for emphasis.

Kylo was only half-listening to his excuse; instead his attention shifted to study the purpling eye socket of the guard who previously held a dagger to the girl’s throat.  The man, he also noticed, was very pointedly not looking at him.

“How did you get that injury?” Kylo asked.

“The scuffle, m’ Lord.  The wench struck me,” the guard answered, a tremor to his words.

“Not with that weapon, she didn’t.  A blow from either end of that being swung as it was would guarantee you wouldn’t have much of an eye left.  Therefore you must have sustained it beforehand.  I am going to request, just once, that you not make me drag the truth from you.”

Metal clinked against metal as the guards standing on either side of the man Kylo interrogated shifted uncomfortably, as though they longed to put as much space between him and themselves as possible.  The offending guard’s nostrils flared and he looked up to meet Kylo’s intense gaze.  

“I didn’t mean nothing by it,” he said in a way that was almost defiant.  “It was a long winter, and trips to the brothels were few and far between.  Ye can’t blame a man for wanting to remember what a firm, round hindquarter felt like beneath his hand again.  I barely touched her when she lashed out an’ grabbed me weapon.” He glared at the girl at the last part, as though the whole thing was her fault.

“So I’m to understand, then, that you felt it was your right to lay hands on a defenseless woman brought to serve in the Archduke’s home to slate your animalistic lust, then attempt to open her throat like a lamb in the slaughterhouse when she protested your unwanted advance?”  Kylo’s voice was soft as he spoke, but it rang like a blade being dragged across a whetstone.  The man’s expression of arrogant defiance withered underneath his helm.

“She is only a workhouse rat, m’ Lord.  Being shifted to the Archduke’s scullery twon’t make her any better.  She should be flattered to get any attention with what little she has to give.”

“Which hand did you violate her with?”

The guard blinked in confusion.  “M’ Lord?”

“Your hand,” Kylo bit out, annunciating every syllable so the man could comprehend him better.  “Which one did you use to grab her?”

Still befuddled by Kylo’s question, the guard extended his right hand.

In a flash of movement Kylo unsheathed a long dagger on his belt, the weak morning light glinting off the edge of the blade as it spun in his hand before cleanly severing the guard’s first and second fingers at the knuckle.  The man collapsed to his knees, his mouth open in a silent howl of pain as he helplessly watched blood gush from the stumps where his fingers were once attached to his hand, the viscous liquid steaming in the air.  There were multiple gasps of horror from the new servant girls still cowering by the wagon, but if the young woman whom he accosted reacted at it happened too fast for Kylo to see.

“Let this serve as a warning to any man who feels it is his right to lay a hand on a woman without her consent.  You are servants to the most powerful and revered house in the kingdom, not rutting beasts.  The next one unable to keep control over his cock will have it fed to the hounds.”  The dagger vanished as fast as it appeared, its owner impervious to the maimed man bleeding and whimpering at his feet in the mud.

“Captain, you are to escort the new arrivals to the kitchen yourself.  Ensure that they are sufficiently warmed and fed before the housekeeper assigns them to their new roles.  And,” he paused, eyes lilting to the girl, “make sure this one receives a proper bath.  She may fight like a wildcat, but that doesn’t mean she should go about smelling like one.”

Kylo saw her bristle under the layers of grime as the captain of the guard very near leapt to fulfill the order.  Kylo almost allowed himself a chuckle.  The girl had a fire burning within her, that much was for certain.  If the cold of the Snoke’s keep did not extinguish it she could go far in his household; maybe even into the Ruby Court itself one day. But until then, she had to start at the bottom, and needed to be reminded as such.

“At this time, manners typically dictate that a show of gratitude is on order,” Kylo said.  His tone was firm but not unkind, stopping the girl before she could follow the others.  She turned to look at him, skinny and filthy, but her back was straight, her shoulders squared and head held high; ready for another fight, if need be.

“Thanks, but I can take care of myself,” she replied very matter-of-factly, as though this sort of thing happened every day.

This time Kylo did smirk.  Had someone else so far below him showed him that sort of brazen insolence he would have made sure they instantly regretted it, but this girl was just far too amusing.  “What’s your name?”

The girl pressed her lips together, a moment of conflict flashing in her eyes before answering with only some trepidation: “I’m Rey.”

“Rey,” he repeated, letting the word spread along his tongue.  “Well, Rey, it looks like you’re just going to have to keep proving that to me.”

Whatever it was that she was expecting him to say or do in retaliation to her cheek, it was not that.  Her eyes widened, the column of her throat working as she swallowed whatever it was she was going to say.  Instead she gave him a shallow curtsey - her first show of proper decorum - mumbled another word of thanks, then hustled to rejoin the rest of the new arrivals as they filed into the keep.

With the altercation over, everyone was quick to return to their duties, acting as though nothing had happened.  Kylo was left standing alone in the middle of the bailey, and unlike the servants and staff tending the yards, the only thing on his mind was on the girl who was the epicenter all that just took place.  

“Rey,” he said one last time.  It was a simple name, a peasant’s name, but in his mind it conjured images of spears of sunlight piercing the thick black clouds that followed a blizzard, bringing warmth and sunlight back to the land.

For the first time in years, the cold of the Archduke’s castle did not seem so absolute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren has no time for misogynist bullshit. Even court whores have their standards.


End file.
